Here's a bonus chapter for you all! Thank you so much for waiting. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I hope you have a wonderful time reading!
Jane Yu spent only two nights at the Hog's Head before Dumbledore whisked her away.
The brothers' fury had nearly set the entire house ablaze.
They could find cause to clash over the tiniest things - whether toothbrushes should face left or right, whether tea needed one sugar cube or ten - they could argue about such trivialities for hours.
"Take your bird, your luggage, and get out of my pub!"
Aberforth roared, angrily balling up his brother's cloak and hurling it out the door, where it landed squarely in a pile of goat droppings.
Then he turned to Jane, performing an instant facial transformation as he offered her a kindly smile:
"Of course, dear child, not you - I've prepared some biscuits for you."
Warning bells went off in Dumbledore's head.
He retrieved his cloak, eyeing his brother suspiciously.
He had discovered Jane's talents first - why was everyone trying to poach his protégé?
Didn't they have their own students to mentor?
Had they no respect for first claims?
He was sorely tempted to fling that pile of goat droppings right back at Aberforth's face.
"Impossible," he suppressed the urge, his chest heaving with anger. "She won't stay here - you're not her legal guardian."
Faced with his brother's blatant attempt to undermine him, he opted for a swift retreat, whisking Jane away from the scene.
With a crack of Apparition, Jane felt herself being squeezed through space.
After a dizzying moment, they arrived at a manor house.
Truthfully, she found Dumbledore's Apparition skills inferior to house-elf Dobby's.
This was genuinely nauseating.
She couldn't help but vomit all over Dumbledore.
"Oh! Child-" Dumbledore frantically stuffed Toothflossing Stringmints into her mouth while casting hurried cleaning spells, "I must apologize for my rashness - I forgot to warn you about the side effects of Apparition. Perhaps we should have used Floo powder..."
Once Jane recovered, she noticed Dumbledore pulling out that parchment again.
It had undergone numerous revisions, now covered in various colors of ink.
Away from the Hog's Head, Dumbledore's previously foul mood seemed to have improved considerably. He smiled warmly as he pressed a bag of candied pineapple into Jane's hands:
"Next, we'll visit Professor Slughorn. He was once Head of Slytherin House - I believe you'll learn much from him."
Aberforth's tirade had evidently influenced Dumbledore's thinking somewhat.
He'd decided to select some Slytherin associates he deemed worthy of Jane's acquaintance.
Slughorn was one of them.
Though vain and status-conscious, the man was good-natured and particularly appreciative of talent, fundamentally kind-hearted.
Thus, Dumbledore had included him in Jane's "Summer Schedule."
...
Slughorn welcomed them enthusiastically.
The retired professor was as rotund as the Fat Friar, completely bald, with protruding eyes and a walrus-like mustache of thick silver.
"What brings you here?" he asked jovially, attempting to bow despite his massive belly.
The gesture was somewhat hampered by his girth, resulting in more of a head bob.
"Horace, you're looking well!" Dumbledore smiled, shaking his hand. Away from the Hog's Head, he was once again the perfect, venerable, great wizard and headmaster. "I heard about you from Flume the other day and realized it's been too long since we last met."
"Yes, yes, I often think back to our time working together - those were delightful days indeed." He patted his round belly with his pudgy hands before turning his puzzled gaze toward Jane.
"This," Dumbledore stepped forward to make introductions, "is Yu Jane, a Slytherin student who has received the Award for Special Services to the School two years running since her enrollment. Jane, this is my old friend and colleague, Horace Slughorn."
"Ho!" Slughorn's round eyes widened in surprise as he muttered, "Most extraordinary... two consecutive years... Hogwarts has never seen such talent... and in our Slytherin... remarkable, absolutely remarkable."
Upon receiving the gift of candied pineapple from Jane, his delight became visibly apparent.
He waddled to his drinks cabinet, opened it, and retrieved a bottle from the locked top shelf, pouring a generous measure:
"This is oak-matured mead, aged countless years - I just opened a bottle yesterday-"
He caught himself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering Jane's age, and clapped a pudgy hand to his forehead:
"My apologies, I forgot you're not of age yet-"
He poured the drink back into the bottle, completely missing Dumbledore's outstretched hand frozen in mid-air.
After much fussing with various bottles and containers, he settled onto the sofa with a tray holding three cups of tea, eagerly pulling Jane closer and personally pressing a cup into her hands.
"Perhaps you haven't heard of me," Slughorn said with great enthusiasm. "I've been retired for ten years, but before that, I was Head of Slytherin House and taught Potions - how are you doing in Potions?"
"I've already learned to brew the Elixir to Induce Euphoria," Jane replied.
"Ho!" Slughorn exclaimed again. "Extraordinary, extraordinary - that's sixth-year material..."
Dumbledore took a sip of tea and spoke in a somewhat proud tone:
"Not only that, her paper was published in 'International Potions Research' in her first year."
"Ho!" Slughorn seemed not to know what to do with his hands and feet. He quickly stood up and searched the nearly ceiling-high bookshelf for the 1991 issue, finding it almost immediately.
"'Treatment Methods and Applications of Bubotuber Pus' - I remember this article!" He sat back down, excitedly rubbing his hands together as sweat beaded on his face. "Oh my, if I were still at Hogwarts, I could have helped you make it even better... your teacher Severus Snape was once my student, you know."
He jumped up again, trotting to the cupboard to retrieve an ornately packaged box of sweets, which he pushed toward Jane.
He seemed to have completely forgotten Dumbledore's presence, utterly captivated by this outstanding student.
Dumbledore smiled wryly, clutching his stomach as he rose from the sofa:
"Perhaps I need to use your bathroom, Horace."
"Oh, yes, yes." Slughorn finally remembered himself, gesturing vaguely toward the door. "Turn right."
Dumbledore left the room. As the door closed behind him, the room fell quiet.
But Slughorn's excitement couldn't be contained as he practically danced in place.
"I used to run the Slughorn Club at Hogwarts," he said, clearly delighted at having gathered so many talented wizards together. "All promising students - many of them made history after graduation."
He smiled proudly, pointing to the gleaming frames on the cabinet:
"These are all my former students - all signed photographs. Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet; Dirk Cresswell, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office... I helped them network, recommended jobs, made introductions..."
Jane understood - Professor Slughorn was essentially a wizarding career counselor.
She continued listening with interest, occasionally offering polite words of praise.
But Slughorn's mood suddenly dropped as he stared at Jane's face, letting out a long sigh:
"Such a pity, such a pity, that I'm no longer teaching - Snape got to you first, quite the windfall for him... though he was one of my finest students, of course."
He spoke of Snape like a obsessive collector who had lost a prized acquisition to a competitor at auction.
"Many Slytherins were exceptional - the Black family's second son, Regulus, I snatched him up right away. Shame about his brother going to Gryffindor and not being in my house, though perhaps for the best, given his disgraceful actions..."
He fell silent as Dumbledore returned just then, urging Jane to go put her luggage in the guest room.
...
After Jane left, Dumbledore immediately steered the conversation in a more serious direction.
"Ah, Horace, perhaps we might change the subject."
Slughorn turned away defiantly:
"No, you know that won't convince me - however talented she may be, Albus, the answer is still no!"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, his expression still gentle though his eyes held a distinct chill:
"No, this isn't about the teaching position - we've already found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..."
"I simply wanted to discuss a former student we both taught - Tom Riddle."
Slughorn's face turned ashen as he anxiously fidgeted with his pudgy fingers.
"W-what about him?" he asked nervously. "I know... I know he became He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... why bring this up now?"
"A diary from fifty years ago, containing memory fragments, capable of opening the Chamber of Secrets and releasing a basilisk - quite remarkable, wouldn't you say?" Dumbledore spoke with mild wonderment. "And as chance would have it, it bore his name."
Slughorn's corpulent frame seemed to tremble. Despite the June summer heat, he appeared to feel a chill as he shrank into the silk upholstery:
"Good heavens... how dreadful... good heavens... how dreadful..."
He seemed capable of uttering only these words, repeating them endlessly. The fear in his eyes was almost palpable.
But no matter how Dumbledore tried to coax the memory from him, he refused to say another word.